


Privileged

by msmoron



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Consensual Non-Consent, Dom/sub, Dominant Kylo Ren, F/M, Light BDSM, Possessive Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmoron/pseuds/msmoron
Summary: You're one of the few female stormtroopers stationed at Starkiller base. When Captain Phasma gives you a mysterious assignment, you find your path crossed with Kylo Rens.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. A New Assignment

Your eyes slid open and you squinted at the bottom of the top bunk for a moment while they adjusted to the darkness. It was still too early for the overhead lights to trigger on. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and rolling from your back to your side, you kicked off your scratchy wool blanket. Only the breathing and tired rustling of the other troopers and the occasional purposeful click of boots in the hallway cut through the low hum of the air vents. Fortunately, there are far fewer female troopers so these quarters are far quieter. And smell far better.

After a couple of minutes, you swung your bare feet off the side of your bed and hesitated before your toes hit the metal floor. Your chest was still killing after yesterday's training. Fuck upper body day. After a quick full-body joint adjustment, you stumbled over to the dimly lit lavatory. The lavatory is far too big for the 7 female storm troopers occupying your 50 bed barrack so you pass about 20 shower stalls before settling on the one closest to the heater. Turning on the water and dropping your tank top and joggers, you stood there shivering with your hand under the stream waiting for an acceptable temperature. Accepting the inevitable with a huff, you stepped into the small, curtainless stall and held your breath.

As you wring the last of the soap from your hair, someone else enters the lavatory. Probably Sanna, you thought. She was an early riser too. You step out onto the chrome tiles and grab your towel from your designated hook. As you wrap yourself you hear a groggy hello.

"Morning y/n" Sanna yawned. Sanna, or HC-928, was the only other trooper that you could describe as a friend. When you first were transferred onto Starkiller, she looked out for you. At that point she was the only female trooper on base and she always seemed to have an inordinate amount of horrifying anecdotes about her mistreatment as the hands of the other troopers. Sharing a huge barrack for five months with someone does lend itself well to bonding. You two eventually picked out names for each other. Of course, you would only use them when it was just the two of you. It was a small taste of normalcy and you knew Sanna appreciated it as much as you did.

She turned on the shower and played the same waiting game you had just moments before.

"It won't ever warm up you know. You'd think we'd have the budget for a hot shower" you smirked.

"Yup. I should write a strongly worded letter" Sanna said through chattering teeth.

"I'll cosign" you joked as you brushed through your hair in front of the sink. Sanna sighed and peeled off her pajamas. Humility was not something storm troopers could afford. Sanna was about a head shorter than you, but had more muscle mass than could be believed on someone of her stature. You always chalked it up to how many hours she had spent training since, before you arrived, none of the male troopers would exactly invite her to the mess hall for a couple of laughs.

You let her fight the icy water and went back to your routine. After brushing your teeth and tying your chestnut hair back in a low bun, you wandered back out to your bunk to pull your underclothes from your bin. The First Order uniform wasn't exactly expressive. You pulled your black long sleeve athletic turtleneck over your head, being careful not to disturb your bun. You learned quickly that once the helmet was on for the day, any loose hairs can and will find their way into your eyeballs. You pulled up your boxer briefs (since there weren't exactly First Order issued panties) and then sat on your unmade bed to finish assembling your outfit. Form-fitting black leggings with thick shin-height black socks were your favorite part of the ensemble. It was always colder than you would think on the base.

You wince as the overhead lights turn on one by one. 5AM. Every morning seemed brighter than the one before. Groans echo through your quarters as the other five troopers stir and hide under their blankets. You know that you have 15 minutes from the lights to be in armor and ready to receive the day's assignment. While the other women dragged themselves to the lavatory, Sanna walks over to your bunk in her black underclothes and leans her elbow against the frame of the top bed.

"You should be on prisoner escort duty today, right?" Sanna questioned.

"Should be. Gotta love babysitting the Resistance" you reply as you slide your chest plate over your head. Sanna shifts towards her bunk directly across from yours and opens her bin to retrieve her armor.

"At least you're not on hanger patrol. I just pace around the engineers while they hope that the Commander doesn't come in and reset their week's work with another hissy fit."

You nod and busy yourself by securing your boots. Whenever anyone brought up the Commander, you always found yourself becoming uneasy. You weren't sure why as you've never even seen the guy. The closest you came to being in his presence was hearing his saber crash against durasteel as you walked past the command center one day. You wiped the sweat from your palms onto your bed sheets as you remember the red glow emanating from under the door frame.

The noise of the other troopers filing in and readying themselves brought you back to the current moment. Should be any minute now that your commanding officer arrives. You turn to fix your sheets before sitting on the bin in front of your bunk and slipping your gloves on. Sanna does the same and you both yawn.

The entrance to the barrack slides open with a hiss. Quickly, you stand at attention in front of your bunk and snatch your helmet from your bin and secure it on your head. The other five troopers trip over each other to fall in line. The familiar sound of metallic boots bounce off the walls as Captain Phasma saunters in. Methodically, she moves down the line of perfectly identical suits of armor inspecting every inch of the barrack. You've been on Starkiller base for close to a year and have yet to learn to regulate your breathing around Phasma. She passes you and you catch the reflection of your own armor in hers. At the end of the occupied bunks, she turns on her heels and places her hands behind her back.

"GK-031, GT-098, VH-410 and HC-928" She booms. Sanna and the other three troopers step forward.

"Yes, Captain!" they call back in unison.

"Report to the hanger immediately. You will be providing additional security for General Hux's flight today. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain!" they harmonized. Your eye twitched. Sanna nodded at you quickly before the four jogged out of the barrack. Whenever Sanna was sent off base for any reason, your nerves were shot. You would never let her catch onto this, but you always worried about her. Not because she couldn't take care of herself, but because some other lesser trooper might get her killed. Some of these guys are terrible shots.

"RF-949 and RA-211, report to the armory. Another trooper is there now with your instruction" Phasma ordered. The two stepped forward and yessed their captain before heading out.

You were the only one left. Normally, this would be anxiety-inducing enough, but something about Phasma was off today. You stood up straighter than you ever have in your life and looked past your captain's visor as she stood in front of you.

"KR-831..."

"Yes, Captain!"

"Follow me."


	2. Caught

Wordlessly, Phasma led you down one stark white corridor after another for what seemed like an hour. Your mind parsed through the rolodex of assignment possibilities you could be given. You've already left behind any recognizable area of Starkiller. You were sure even Sanna hadn't been this deep into the base. She would have told you.

The two of you passed fewer and fewer groups of other troopers on patrol. Every one of them glancing at you over their shoulder after they were sure they were out of Phasma's periphery. They had as much of an idea as to what your fate was as you did.

The sterile white walls slowly darkened into unpainted durasteel as your Captain made a final turn into a long hallway with brilliantly shining black double doors at the end. On your left were floor to ceiling windows overlooking Ilums frosted planes. Letting your curiosity get the better of you as you stared out onto the landscape, you hadn't noticed that Phasma had stopped in front of the doors. Slightly bumping into her back, she turned and glared down at you.

"KR-831" Phasma addressed you in a stern hushed tone.

"Yes Captain!" you barked back out of instinct realizing instantly that you had been too loud. Phasma wasn't exactly soft-spoken without reason.

Behind her visor, she gave you a final look-over and rolled her head on her shoulders. You could tell she was uneasy with your current predicament as well.

"This will be your new assignment. You are to report here at dusk and remain posted until dawn. You will have dawn to dusk to rest. Is this understood?"

You hesitated.

"Captain... What is this?" You immediately registered the casualness of your tone by Phasma's cocked head and your pulse quickened.

"My apologies. Meaning, what am I to log on my report Captain?" You croaked.

There was a moment of unbearable stillness before she spoke.

"Your first shift is a double. Remain posted until dawn. Your meals are already provided here." She gestured to a small door on the side wall to the right of larger black ones.

"This is a privilege. Is this understood KR-831?"

"Yes, Captain!" You robotically stepped to the side and saluted Phasma as she disappeared back into the bowels of Starkiller.

Eyes darting between the monumental, shining double doors and your own smaller door, you decide to take a quick peak into your side room. It's not like anyone was around to catch you anyway. You were sure there wasn't a living soul around except for some mites in the air vents. Pressing the release switch on the panel for your door, it opened with a pathetic whine. You made a mental note to request some gear lubricant next time you stopped by the hanger. Stepping into the dim steel room, you see a stocked rations container, a rack of fairly heavy weaponry, a sink, a mirror, a toilet and a small table.

"Couldn't even find the budget for a fucking chair, I guess." You sigh as you slid your helmet off and chucked it onto the table.

Suddenly, a low mechanical hiss behind you causes you to reach for your blaster. Whipping around to face the entrance, you realize there was in fact someone else besides you and the mites. The enormous double doors had opened and filling up the entire doorway to your excuse for a break room was your Commander.

Staring into his visor made you acutely aware that your helmet was still carelessly tossed onto the table. Frozen, your heart was beating so aggressively that you were sure that your chest plate was moving with it. Strands of unruly hair were now clinging to the sweat at the nape of your neck and you held your lips between your teeth, terrified of what was to come next.

Commander Ren turned to face you and slowly dragged his gaze from your feet to your now mussed low bun. Eons passed as his stare bore holes into you and you tasted bile on the back of your tongue.

"Hmm." he purred before turning to stomp down the corridor. You didn't move until his footsteps were no longer audible.

You were stationed to guard Kylo Ren's personal quarters. Thankfully, the toilet within reach to catch your vomit.


	3. Enter

Hours had gone by. After emptying the contents of your stomach and embarrassingly situating your helmet back on your head, not a muscle in your body had moved since you stationed yourself at the entrance to your Commanders quarters. You had already fucked up more than any trooper was allotted in a lifetime of service. Not only were you not at post, but you were caught with your helmet off and your hand hovering over your weapon. That would be bad enough. But you were caught by Commander Ren of all people.

You were sure there would be another trooper to show up and relieve you of your post so you could go get blasted into the vast expanse of space by Phasma. You could just picture your body floating into nothingness in the reflection of her armor. You swallowed hard. Once your 24 hour shift was over, there would be a punishment for you like no other. It was certain.

The hours continued to creep by and the only guess as to the time was informed by your grumbling stomach. Turning your head to the side, you eyed the door with a container full of rations behind it. Deciding against it, you chose hunger. You wouldn't chance getting caught again.

Your growing hunger pains were the least of your worries. Ever since this mornings events, that distorted "Hmm" had played over and over in your mind. What could it have possibly meant? Anger? Disbelief? Annoyance? You knew Commander Ren to be a man of few words, but still. Hmm?

Coming from somewhere in the miles of corridors before you, faint footsteps found your eardrums. Sweat slicked your palms and forehead and you could only await whatever or whoever was coming for you. The footsteps were becoming progressively louder and you could only try your best to steady your shaking knees. A final deep breath.

Turning the corner was another trooper. Carrying a chair.

A chair?

As the trooper finally arrived in front of your side room door, they opened the door and placed the metal chair next to the table. You didn't dare turn your head to watch them do so. They exited the room and stood square with your shoulders for a moment before speaking.

"Requested by the Commander. That will be all." they explained before taking their leave. Your mind spun. Had your Commander heard you this morning? He must have. Your insides twisted at the idea. Bitching about the First Order's budget distribution was something you had to add to the list of reasons for punishment.

Why did he request the damn chair? Since when does an unhinged serial murderer and war criminal have consideration for anyone? Especially you.

For the next few hours until dusk, you could only think about how this must be some sick joke. Your anxiety was too quick for you to slow your breathing often resulting in your gut threatening you with vomiting. He was playing with you before he decapitated you with his saber and hung your helmet in his den as a trophy. You hoped Sanna would at least find out what happened to you.

Just as before, footsteps ricocheted off the durasteel walls and sent chills up your spine. These sounded much heavier than the first pair. More aggressive. Bracing for impact, you balled your fists behind your back and focused on sucking in what could be your last breaths. After a few agonizing moments, Commander Ren rounded the corner.

His presence alone nearly knocked you off your feet and you quickly widened your stance to ensure you wouldn't topple over. His black robes flitted behind him as he slowly reached the entrance of his quarters. His dark hood hung just over the visor of his mask and his fists were stiffly situated at his sides. Your Commander towered over you.

You were no pipsqueak standing at 5'10", but he still dwarfed you. Your heart might have stopped, you weren't sure as your ears rang and your cheeks flushed. Every inch of your body was numb in anticipation for your punishment.

"KR-831," he snapped.

"Yes, Commander!" you burst out trying to hide any trace of anxiety in your timbre. Clearly not succeeding.

He paused.

"Stand aside." he ordered.

Quickly, you plastered yourself against the wall as professionally as you could. You could feel the chill of the steel even through your armor. Without taking his eyes off of you, Commander Ren punched a code into his security panel directly to the left of your head and pressed the release switch. It was 6 digits. You were trying desperately to focus on anything but the figure looming over you. The oppressively large black doors slid open and he disappeared into the darkness behind them. You held your breath praying for the doors to close again. Perhaps he would practice mercy. Just this once.

"Enter." Commander Ren demanded.

You choked on your breath and gripped the wall behind you for stability.

"Now."

You obeyed and the shining black doors closed behind you with a deafening click.


	4. Open

There was nothing but blackness after the chamber doors secured shut. Behind the glossy doors, you stiffly shifted your weight as you sucked in as much air as your lungs would allow. Commander Ren had not yet turned on the lights. Probably just to fuck with you. You knew the Commander was standing all of 10 inches away from your face, but the only clues as to his existence were the vague outline of his form and the slightly distorted sounds of his breath.

The subtle sound of leather stretching made you jump slightly. His gloves. You assumed that Commander Ren was reaching for the light switch. When your vision didn't become any clearer, your palms only grew more clammy. He's definitely mounting my head above his fireplace, you thought.

"KR-831" Commander Ren began.

His baritone earned a small gasp from you. You could almost hear his grin from behind his mask. 

"Yes, sir" you mumbled. You sounded pitiful. Pushing your fingertips into your palms too hard, you cursed yourself.

"Remove your helmet."

Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears, you weren't sure if you heard him properly. Still bathed in darkness, legs about to buckle, you could barely formulate a thought. Is this a test? Is he mocking me? What if I refuse?

Not wanting to test his patience any further, your hands rose to either side of your head and nervously slipped off your helmet. Your eyes were glued to the visor of your helmet. You couldn't bare to meet his watch. You felt so vulnerable. Naked. Seconds felt like years and you wished for nothing more than to be blasted into space at this point.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the dim overhead light flickered on. Only you and your Commander were illuminated by its glow. As three gloved fingers wrapped themselves around your chin, you whimpered. Instinctively, you resisted his grip which only caused him to strengthen his hold on your face.

"Open." he warned lowly.

A familiar heat spread throughout your stomach. Being a stormtrooper is basically a vow of abstinence, but you underestimated how aggressively your body would respond to the slightest suggestion of male attention. You were sure your cheeks flushed. How fucking embarrassing.

Opening your eyes, you were met with your Commander's oppressive build. His chest was impossibly broad and you could see his biceps through what must have been several layers of clothing. With your helmet off, you could almost smell him. The scent of leather and smoke emanated from him. You almost allowed yourself to enjoy it.

Before you could take in the details of his mask, he gently turned your face to the side. After a moment, he turned it to the other side. Inspecting you. His thumb almost sensually spread out over your jaw and sharply clamped down to get a better grasp.

Finally positioning your face back towards his, he dropped your chin. Resisting the urge to massage your now bruised jaw, you continued to stare up into that dark impersonal visor. You could see yourself in its reflection. Hair slightly disheveled and eyes wide with anticipation.

He scanned over your body without a trace of shame. His neck swiveling to take in every part of you.

"Hm."

Anger curdled in your stomach. At least that's what you hoped it was. Vomiting on your Commander's boots wouldn't exactly improve your current situation.

"Hm?" you mimicked exasperated. How dare he play with you like this. He was a child tormenting a bug, cutting off any means of its escape. Immature and all powerful.

He said nothing. Your Commander balled his fists and quickly readjusted his shoulders. Those muscular shoulders.

He raised his hand and you winced quickly bringing your cheek to your shoulder, expecting a swift smack for your insubordination. Instead, the familiar hiss of the entrance sent a cool gust of air to nip at the nape of your neck.

Your Commander turned quickly on his heels and took several steps into the darkness of his quarters before pausing. His mask turned slightly towards you.

"You're dismissed."


	5. Unwitting

The entrance to Commander Ren's quarters had been sealed for hours now. If there were ever to be an assassination attempt, now would be the perfect time. The only thing between the presumably sleeping Commander of the First Order and an imaginary assassin was you. And you were completely useless in your current state.

You were slumped in the corner of the small side room, next to the rations container with your knees to your chest and a few empty wrappers littered about. You weren't exactly the picture of the primed soldier that the First Order had hoped for.

The humiliation at the hands of your Commander wasn't even the most immobilizing part of your evening. It was the realization that you enjoyed it. The evidence was a bit hard to deny from the condition of your First Order briefs. Shame singed your cheeks and nose turning them a bright pink. Your body felt foreign to you for the first time in recent memory. Dangerous even.

Using the table as support, you pulled yourself to an upright position. Shuffling towards the sink, you turned the faucet on full blast. Cupping your hands together under the stream, the coolness of the water soothed your trembling fingers. You brought your mouth to meet your hands and drank from the small pool before soaking your face and neck with the remainder.

Meeting your own eyes in the mirror, you sighed. Your tight bun's expiration date had long since past and your hair now resembled a monkey-lizard burrow. The bluish tint of exhaustion on your under-eyes aged you horribly. You stood there rubbing your eyes with heels of your palms until you saw stars. Some kind of feeble attempt at erasing the nights escapade, you supposed.

Sleep tugged at your joints and eyelids as you brushed your hair behind your ears, preparing for the last few hours of duty. After readjusting your armor and returning your helmet to its rightful place, you glued yourself to the spot Phasma had left you almost a day ago.

Your skull felt like static as the early hours crept closer and closer. The pressure of your Commanders grasp on your face replaying over and over on your skin. You bit the inside of your cheeks every time your eyelids drooped a bit too far.

Just as your deliriously overtired mind was about to slip into a different reality, metallic footsteps jolted you into consciousness. As Captain Phasma rounded the corner, the first shards of daylight broke over the horizon and gleamed off of her armor.

Had she heard about what happened? Did Commander Ren report you? Had she already orchestrated your execution?

"Good morning, KR-831." Phasma greeted. She was almost cheery. Well, as cheery as she could get.

"Good morning, Captain." The words fell out of your mouth.

"I've come to escort you back to your barracks. Wouldn't want you to lose your way, would we?"

You swallowed thickly.

"No, Captain."

There was no sarcasm or threatening tone to her voice. Her gaze didn't linger on you a moment too long. Almost as if she believed your first shift was a success. Commander Ren hadn't reported you.

Every step you took brought relief. The confusion that wracked your body last night was too much to digest and left a bitter taste in your mouth. The further you could get away from your Commander the better.

Winding through the more usual corridors of Starkiller, you were received by the bustle of daily life on base. Drills whirring, boots clomping in unison, and superiors chewing out their crews. It could've lulled you to sleep it was so mundane and expected.

Finally passing the final checkpoint into the barracks area, Captain Phasma slowed to a stop and faced you.

"I trust you now know the way to your assignment?" She questioned.

"Yes, Captain." Which was a bit of a lie, but you couldn't tell her that. A problem for a later time.

She nodded, "Good. Rest as you are expected to be posted at dusk."

A quick salute from you and Phasma took her leave. You were practically limping into the barracks. No one was there on account of it being after 6AM. Everyone had already been given their assignments. You had wished to see Sanna for even a minute before she had left for the day. Not that you couldn't even sort out how much you would tell her.

Although you wanted to sling your armor off leaving a trail directly to your bunk, you knew better. After neatly packing away your armor in your bin and stuffing your underclothes in your spot in the group laundry container, you staggered to the lavatory nude. A great perk of having the barracks to yourself.

You pulled your hair tie out, letting your hair fall just past your shoulders and ruffled your fingers across your scalp. Then cracking every joint you could reach, you nearly moaned from the release. You should've, seeing as you would be alone for the next half-day.

Grabbing your hairbrush from the cabinet marked with your identification number and situating yourself on the sink, you set out to detangle your mop knot by knot. You hit a particularly tight gnarl and sucked in air through your teeth. After a quick string of profanity, you caught a glimpse of your reflection.

Examining your jaw, you observed a long oval bruise. Spanning from your chin just below the left side of your mouth up to the freckle that dotted the corner of your jawline. Your pulse quickened at the memory of your Commanders thumb skating across your skin before urgently squeezing the tender flesh.

Desperately trying to rid yourself of the reminder of his hold, you noticed the reflection of the plain shower stalls behind you. Being doused in ice water sounded like a treat compared to the marathon of emotional acrobatics you had just went through.

You moved across the tiled floor and twisted the shower knobs. Offering the steady stream your palm, the same frigid temperature welcomed you.

"Maybe I should've drafted that strongly worded letter for the Commander." You quipped before stepping into stall.

Letting the jet of water knead your upper back, your forearms held you up against the metal side of the stall. Unwittingly, your mind began to stray. Closing your eyes, you craned your neck up as if you were still trying to find his stare behind the visor. You remembered the force of his fingers against your sensitive skin. How he took his time surveying your every freckle and blemish. How your hands gripped your helmet so desperately your knuckles went white under your gloves. The crease of leather and warped rhythm of his breath. The smell of smoke.

Goosebumps dimpled every inch of your skin and that same nagging warmth grew in your stomach. Realizing who and what you were fantasizing about, you ordered your eyes open. Without registering it, your hand had made its way between your legs.

Stripping your hand away instantly, mortification consumed you. How could you allow yourself to feel this way about him? Commander Kylo Ren of the First Order. Musing over that unfeeling barbarian like a daisy fresh school girl was appalling.

You shut off the water and hurriedly readied yourself for bed. Crawling into your bunk and pulling the covers over your head, you wished for the deepest sleep you had ever had. Not only a deep sleep, but a dreamless sleep void of any fancies featuring Kylo fucking Ren. You hoped.


	6. Wake-Up Call

You had sunk into an empty sleep underneath your coarse wool blanket. With your knees tucked to your chest, your breath was deep and steady. You were so entrenched in nothingness, you hadn't even realized that the barrack doors had opened.

Cool air coated your skin as your blanket was ripped from you. Your brow furrowed as you subconsciously registered the sudden loss of warmth. Gloved hands met your arm and hip. Jostling your limp body frantically was Sanna.

"KR-831... KR-831..." She mumbled.

You didn't stir.

"Y/N!"

Unsure if this wake up call was imagined or not, you rolled to your back and reached out for the hands still locked onto you. Once you felt the familiar smoothness of trooper armor your eyes shot open and you quickly propped yourself up on your elbows.

"Hell. Are you alright?" Sanna stuttered as she knelt next to your bunk, pulling her helmet off. Her eyes were frantic as she awaited your reply.

Blinking to focus your vision, you shook your head sleepily. You watched her place her helmet on the ground and then anxiously look up at you.

"Where were you last night? You never came back and nobody knew where you were." Sanna interrogated.

"I... Uh... What time is it?" You queried groggily.

"Everyone's in the mess hall for last meal. I managed to come up with some bullshit excuse so I could leave and see if you were back. Now answer me!"

You weren't sure how to respond. Trying to buy yourself another moment to think, you sat up and stretched your legs before settling cross-legged on your bunk.

"Captain gave me a new assignment. My first posting was a double." You replied sheepishly.

Crawling up to sit beside you, Sanna pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Alright? Alright. What assignment? She didn't move you back to perimeter patrol, did she?" She looked back at you expectantly as she slicked back her dark pixie cut.

You had been so on edge the past day, your body didn't have the stamina nor the will to bottle up another rush of emotion. A small chuckle escaped your lips and you clasped your fingers together in front of your chin. Looking to Sanna, you knew you wouldn't be able to contain yourself. An exhausted, hearty laugh liberated itself from deep within your belly. Your stomach began to burn from the exertion.

Between quick gasps of air you explained, "Phasma... stationed me... to guard... his quarters!"

Sanna, now throughly confused, just shook her head in perplexity.

"Excuse me? His? Who is 'his'?"

Her question only caused you to grab her armored shin with your hands and laugh harder.

"The... Co... Commander!" You snorted, throwing your head back.

Sanna's posture sagged in disbelief. As you came down from your little outburst, you held your side as the cramping subsided. Looking back to Sanna, you saw her eyes narrowing as they examined your face. Her mouth hung open as she lightly poked your bruise with her index finger. 

"What is... Did he hurt you?" She whispered. You could tell she was panicked.

Instinctually, you covered your mark to shield it from view and hopefully settle Sanna's nerves.

"No, no. Not really. I had fucked up. I'm sure I could've been executed for it," You explained apologetically, "But he didn't report me. He just..."

Your Commander's cloaked form flashed behind your eyelids as you blinked.

"He issued a warning." You concluded.

Sanna laid her hands on your shoulders and squeezed lightly before dropping her hands into yours.

"Don't fuck up again, okay?" She joked uneasily.

You smiled faintly and nodded. Outside, you heard a surge of people entering the corridors just beyond the barracks checkpoint.

"Ah, I need to get back to the armory. When will you be back?" Sanna rushed.

"I'm posted from dusk till dawn."

"Damn. I'll be sure to come back tomorrow same time then." She promised. You know she could be punished if she were caught, but there was no use trying to talk her out of it. Sanna was worse than a old falumpaset that way.

She rose and you passed her her helmet. Purposefully, she jogged towards the barrack entrance and gave you a small nod before her face disappeared behind her visor and she cleared out.

You flopped onto your stomach and scrunched your flat pillow tightly around your ears. The pressure rang in your head. Once your arms quaked from the constant force, you let them splay out either side of the bunk until your fingertips just brushed the floor.

Sanna said it was last meal. You would have to report back to those mammoth double doors in about an hour. Would you see him again? Would he be upset? How would you screw up this shift?

You couldn't allow yourself to continue to obsess over the possibilities of new and exciting ways to risk your hide. The endless possibilities. You had to get ready.

Everything about your normal routine felt odd. Washing your face, tying back your hair, adjusting your armor. It all felt almost performative. Like you felt as if someone was watching you. You knew it was impossible, but you couldn't shake the feeling that your every move was being scrutinized.

Finally, you secured your blaster to your hip. With a long inhale, you proceeded to the barracks entrance. Dusk till dawn. A mechanical squeal and the doors unlatched. You blindly headed straight for whatever your Commander had waiting for you.


	7. Duty

A combination of spatial memory and pure luck guided you back to the proper corridor. Peeking around the corner, those glossy expansive doors stared back. A silent self-administered pep talk and you work up the confidence to bring yourself to your post. The double doors only grew larger as you passed the barrens of Ilum outside the enormous panes of glass to your left. The last of the evening light was sliding over the horizon as you found yourself in front of those glossy doors. You rooted your boots to the floor. You hoped that the Commander had left base for an overnight takeover of some small outlier planet. Perhaps you wouldn't need to soil another pair of briefs with his strange manipulation tactics.

All of fifteen minutes had passed before some strange feeling crept its way up your neck and heated your cheeks. It was identical to the way you felt getting ready for your post earlier. This sensation of eyes searing your skin. Somehow, even with all of your armor, you felt exposed.

Trying your hardest to remain still, you listened for any movement. No sound, but the feeling still remained. You held your breath until the only thing you could hear was the sound of your pulse flowing through your eardrums. This couldn't be nothing. Could there possibly be someone in your side room?

Rotating your head to view your side room door, you finally exhaled. You approached the door and quietly slipped your blaster out of its holster. Your hand hovered over the door's release switch as you slightly bent your knees in preparation.

The door unlatched and your empty hand swiftly met your blaster's trigger.

But no one was there.

"Huh... " You muttered, "Weird."

The pang of hefty boots reverberated off of the durasteel walls. They were close. Almost accidentally firing your blaster, you clambered to re-holster your weapon and return to your proper position.

"Shit!" You damned yourself as you did your best to present as collected.

Commander Ren stalked into the corridor. His presence was suffocating even from afar. You noticed he was walking more hastily than he had yesterday. His speed threatened to knock his hood off of his mask. He was heading directly for you, not his quarters this time. Perhaps his understanding for your previous shortcomings had run out. You wished you could've evaporated into the air vents. Before you had time to realize your breathing had become shallow and labored, your Commander hovered above you. He was so close you could touch his chest if you wanted to. Did you want to?

You didn't dare tilt your chin up to meet his visor. You were too afraid of the storm of emotion brewing inside you of to even entertain acknowledging him.

"KR-831," Commander Ren's voice rumbled through his mask, "Should I order you an escort to the infirmary?"

Now thoroughly puzzled, you tore your eyes from his chest to match his glare. Stammering, you reply, "Commander? No, sir?"

"Hmm. You seem to have a memory issue. Twice now you haven't saluted your Commander upon his arrival. Is this a cognitive issue or plain disobedience?"He mocked.

"No, sir. I'm sorry, Commander. I just..." You were rambling. "I know... There is no excuse, sir."

Commander Ren lowered his stare to encompass your body. Again, he showed no sign of remorse or hesitation as his gaze lapped at your form. You were enraptured by his blatant display of... unprofessionalism. You shifted your weight to one side in order to create some friction between your thighs. You hoped he wouldn't notice.

His long arm stretched to dial his code into the security panel. Behind you, the whir of gears and small gust of air told you that his chamber doors were now open. He took a step to the side and stood directly to your left. Deliberately, he brought his leather clad hands to his head and pushed his hood from his helmet. In your periphery, you could just see his hand raise, palm up, and gesture towards his quarters.

"There are things we must discuss regarding your duties," He said flatly. "Come."

He evaporated into the darkness of his quarters leaving you wired and nearly winded. You knew you shouldn't chance his patience so you compliantly stepped through the entrance and followed the sound of massive footsteps.

After about ten steps in total blackness, lights flickered on. His quarters were smaller than you anticipated. The colossal ebony doors left you expecting a vast, elaborate chamber with luxury festering in every corner. The walls were black durasteel that rose to form a curved ceiling. One wall was entirely glass giving an impressive view of the frigid landscape. To the right wall, his bed covered in perfectly folded slate gray sheets could have fit four comfortably.

Across from the bed was a wide horizontal metal slat that jutted out from the wall at about waist height. Under the slat was a metal stool. Some kind of excuse for a table, you assumed. Next to the table was another door, presumably leading to the lavatory. In the middle of all of it was your Commander.

"Sit."

You didn't even remember moving your legs. Next thing you knew you were perched on that metal stool against the wall, fear and anticipation fighting within your stomach.

"Have you felt... odd lately?" He asked.

You had felt odd. Earlier today in the barracks lavatory and just before in the corridor. The strange sensation that you were the subject of some unknown voyeur. His question felt pointed, as if he knew that you felt this way. If that were true, how would that even be possible?

You shifted atop the stool before replying, "Odd, sir?"

"Yes."

He really wasn't giving you much to work off here. He hadn't moved from the center of the room either which didn't exactly put you at ease.

"Um, I suppose. Recently, sir."

"Hmm."

Damn him. His mask turned towards the windows and he clenched and unclenched his gloved fists. He forced you to sit in silence for another moment too long. You could feel the sweat sliding down your forehead and stinging your eye. Despite your best efforts, paranoia began to get the better of you. Maybe if you apologized, he would extend his sympathy.

"Commander, I'm very sorry for my previous indiscretions. Those actions do not reflect my loyalty and the severity of my position. I... I am willing to work hard as is my duty to the First Order... and to you."

Seemingly peaking his interest, his visor rotated back to yours. Taking three impossibly long steps to your stool, you shut your eyes and gripped your thigh plates in expectancy.

Faint scrunching of leather. A small hiss. Turning of tiny gears thrummed. Beside you metal meeting metal caused you to jump and tear your eyes open. On the metal slab beside you was his mask. Before you could fully comprehend what had happened, you felt two hands lightly gripping either side of your helmet and almost cautiously remove it from your head. You watched as your helmet was placed next to his.

Bewildered, your eyes gravitated up the dark, thick material that wrapped his chest. His honeyed irises peered down into yours. 

"Your loyalty will be tested."


	8. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Thank you so much for reading so far!!!! I'm super open to suggestions so if there's something you haven't seen in other Kylo fics that you want, I'm all ears. Manifesting time ;)

Your Commander's eyes were liquid amber, hypnotic and distant. They were situated just barely in shadow under his lightly furrowed brow. Covering the outer corner of his right eye was a misplaced curl of dark hair. The rest of his hair hung perfectly around his angled cheekbones and draped down his neck. The inkiness of his locks accentuating the paleness of his face. Small dark freckles spotted his cheeks, nose and forehead. His high collar cut of your view of the fair skin under his jaw. You wondered if his freckles trailed down his neck, his chest.

Breathtaking. None of your previous imaginings could hold a candle to the almost impossible beauty of your Commander. He must have noticed you drinking in his visage. His eyes narrowed and he craned his neck to view the bruise on your left jaw. 

Cutting through the sound of your unsteady breathing, he began, "A small price for indolence."

Raising his index finger to your chin, Commander Ren glided the cool leather along the length of his mark. You clenched your jaw and one hand gripped the metal slab next to you. 

"Wouldn't you agree?" He asked almost in a whisper. 

Growing impatient with his mind games, you responded more boldly than you had intended. 

"Doesn't even hurt..." You retorted, "Sir."

He widened his stance and placed his hand on the metal slab as well in order to better overwhelm you. Just to meet his stare, your neck was almost fully extended upwards. You took notice of the expert stitching of his collar and wished to feel it under your fingertips. 

Commander Ren allowed what could be mistaken as a smirk to paint his face for a moment before continuing, "Your duties will be expanded. Effective immediately should you accept."

"Expanded, sir?"

"I sensed something within you. Yesterday morning, upon exiting my quarters. A want."

Your palms began to sweat from the memory of his enormous frame filling the doorway. 

"My belief was solidified that evening." While he spoke, his gloved finger trailed from your bruise up your jaw painfully slowly. 

"Your want grew undeniably in my presence. That want can be satiated." His fingers located a strand of loose hair stuck to your temple and twirled it once around his digits. 

"Only if you accept." He finished as his hand returned to his side. Your mind was firing at a million parsecs a second. So fast that you hadn't realized that you'd allowed a small whimper to slip past your lips. 

His eyes and words were wilting your better judgement. Passionate appetites drowned your inhibitions. 

"I will prove my loyalty," You breathed as you used the metal slab to propel yourself up from the stool, "I accept."

Without hesitation, your Commander wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and attacked your lips with his. The soft pinkness of his mouth melded with yours. His kiss was electric. You sighed into him and ran your tongue over his lower lip. He returned the invitation with an enthusiastic low groan as his tongue gained access to yours. He even tasted like smoke. 

You clung to his chest and tried to pull yourself as close to his skin as you could get. Urgently, he lifted your chest plate over your head and returned his mouth to your jaw and sucked at the tender spot where he marked you. As you moaned into the air, the echo of your own lust bounced off of the durasteel dome ceiling. It only seemed to further propel your Commander's assault on your neck. 

Pieces of your armor began to litter his quarters one by one until you were left with only your black underclothes. He grasped at the back of your head wanting to bury his fist in your waves. Stepping back from him, you worked quickly to release your hair from your bun. 

You went to advance towards him again once your hair fell past your shoulders. However, he didn't meet your advancements with the same aggression you were so willingly subjected to just moments prior. You froze unsure if you had angered him. 

"Strip." He instructed. Turning away from you, he strode to his bed and sat placing his hands on his knees. 

Despite the throbbing between your legs, you still felt a twinge of doubt. Insecurities whirled around your skull and left you lightheaded. Breaking you out of your spiral, was the sound of his gloves. He snapped twice with his right hand and pointed to the floor in front of him.

"Do as you are told."

You wanted this. You wanted him. Moving to the spot he had identified, you noticed the evidence of his arousal. His hardening length was straining against the seam of his pants. You averted your eyes as your cheeks blazed a bright pink. 

Arriving in front of his boots, you ran your fingers through your hair and realized you still had your gloves on. Without looking to your Commander, finger by finger, you removed your gloves and cast them aside. Perhaps if you didn't make eye contact, you'd be able to make it through this without accidentally losing your lunch. Your boots were next. A pause before you decided which article to remove now. 

Your shirt. Delicately, you removed your arms from each sleeve and shimmied it up your torso and over your head. The chill of the chamber peaked your nipples and arched your back. Your shirt hit the floor with a slight rustle. The wetness in your core grew from the thrill of this display for your Commander. You couldn't even begin to count the protocols that had already been broken. You didn't care. 

You brought your gaze back to his. His legs had spread wider and one massive hand was palming his cock through his pants. His lips were slightly parted as he worked his sex. He appeared god-like. Your mouth watered and you were invigorated with new desire. He needed to know how much you wanted this. 

Hooking your thumbs into the band of your briefs and leggings, you purposefully turned around. Your back facing him, you slid everything down while bending over inch by inch. Removing your briefs, leggings, and socks in one foul swoop, you heard movement behind you. Unbuckling. Unzipping. 

Rising to your full height, you returned to face your Commander. He had released his cock from his pants and was now freely stroking it. His size was imposing. Each languid stroke of his gloved hand passed over thick veins and rosy skin. Your wetness began to travel down your inner thigh. 

"Kneel." He commanded, his voice slick with fascination. 

You obeyed and kneeled between his boots. His strokes became slower and he placed his hand in front of your mouth. 

"Spit, slut."

Your eyes glazed over and you drooled into the leather. He gathered your saliva onto the head of his cock and hissed as squelching sounds filled the room. His hips started to buck into his fist as he brought his other hand to your neck squeezing your pulse. Your eyes fluttered at the perfect pressure. 

His pumps were becoming more forceful as he brought your face closer to his cock. Small pieces of hair now clung to the sweat on his forehead. 

"Open for me." He rasped. 

Eagerly, you widened your mouth and offered your tongue. He relinquished his hold on your throat and pressed onto your tongue with three fingers, making you gag. His hips seized and his hand choked the base of his cock and his seed coated your tongue and his fingers. You mewled wantonly as he finished in your mouth, growling. 

"Close." He said through gritted teeth. You wrapped your lips around the cum soaked leather and sucked. The musk from the leather mixed with the slight sweetness of his cum was dizzying. He lazily removed his fingers from your mouth and pinched your jaw to force your mouth open. He stared into your cum filled mouth and shameless eyes. 

Staring back at him, you winced through his grasp and closed your mouth. You swallowed and presented your empty mouth to your Commander. 

Using the back of his fingers, he pet your cheek and praised you, "My loyal pet."


	9. Rewarded

Slut.  
His loyal pet. 

Your gut had liquified at the melody of his praise. You knew that the degradation you had experienced should have infuriated you. You are a soldier of the First Order. Proud. Ruthless. However, shame took up no space in your body. Regardless of your logical mind, your innermost desires had been ignited. You craved his approval just as much as you savored his insults. You hung on Commander Ren's every breath, each minuscule facial twitch. 

Removing the damp leather of his fingers from your cheek, he tucked himself back into his pants. He regarded your panting body with intensity. His lips were flushed a deep red and his cheek bones and temples glistened from exertion. Still kneeling between his boots, you rocked your hips ever so slightly onto your ankle, desperate for friction. The bone of your ankle making contact with your cunt caused your stomach to shake. Your Commander took note of your body's plea for attention. 

"I've barely touched you," He cooed. "Would you like to be rewarded for your... service?"

You realized how desperate you must look. You shifted your weight back off of your ankle, avoiding his stare. 

"Would you, pet?" He trailed his thumb across your collarbones and brought his eyes to your chest. 

"Please, Commander." You sniffled.

Your begging earned you his fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling you to your feet. Your Commander rose with you as you struggled to maintain balance. His grip was unyielding leaving you sputtering for air. He seemed to relish in his unquestioned dominance over you as he brought his nose inches from yours and listened to the sounds of your struggle.

Suddenly releasing your neck, your hands slammed against his chest searching for stability as you gulped down air. He did not move, allowing you to slow your breathing before taking your wrists in his hands and placing them by your sides. 

Moving behind you, he ordered, "Sit on the bed and face me."

You slinked onto the bed quickly and watched as he took his position almost against the wall. Your readiness was apparent by the wetness that had leaked onto your inner thighs. Commander Ren had not moved from the wall, still leering at you. Anxiously, you awaited his instruction while your fingers toyed with the sheets beneath you. They were warm from his body heat. 

Breaking the silence he ordered, "Spread." 

Furrowing your brow in hesitancy, you brought your knees apart just enough so your sex was exposed. The indecency of this act was soaking the sheets under you further. 

"More."

More fearful of his consequences than your own humiliation, you scooted back onto the bed and brought your hands behind you. Leaning on your palms, you brought your feet up onto the bed and spread your legs apart as far as you could. Your exposure was as exciting as it was damning. Every thought told you to stop. Stop and leave. However, every sensation egged you on, longing for more of him. 

"Fu... Good." He nearly let out a whimper at the sight of your surrender. You could see how your willingness to perform unhinged him. 

He continued staring at your cunt and thighs for another moment before a light invisible pressure against your clit stunned you into slamming your legs shut. 

"What.. Sir, what was..." Stammering, you looked at him with pleading eyes. 

"I said spread." There was a forcefulness to his tone. 

While you were unsure of what touched you, you did know that it felt unbelievable. You split your legs apart once more and settled back onto your hands. Commander Ren took a slow, deep breath and brought his attention back to you. That same cool pressure found your clit and elicited an immediate moan from your throat. The pressure flowed down your lips and back up to your bud in a never ending orbit. Your Commander fixed his focus on your eyes as you began to roll your hips to the tempo of this force. 

What was happening? How could he make you feel like this without touching you? How could you ensure that he wouldn't stop?

This energy encircled your clit and your shoulders caved in towards your sternum. You cried out as this force expertly pulled you closer and closer towards the edge. While it lapped at your eager nub, the pressure expanded to your entire pussy. It skillfully massaged your entrance while your groans filled the chamber. You rocked back and forth against its pace and you could feel the coil in your stomach wound to it's limit. 

"Commander, please. I have to..."

"Say it. Ask me."

Through spasms of your thighs, you squeaked "Please! Please, I have to cum. Please, can I?"

"Cum. Cum while you look at me." He said breathlessly. 

The tension in your cunt was released all at once and you saw stars as you rode out your orgasm, meeting your Commander's eyes. Your legs and stomach convulsed wildly as you sank back onto your elbows and sobbed from the pleasure. 

You felt two large hands on your legs. Bringing your attention back to your Commander, you saw he was now bent over you. 

"Such a mess my pet made." He gathered your juices on two of his fingers evoking a small grunt from you due to your heightened sensitivity. He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked your cum from the leather. You were stunned by his display. You needed more of his vulgarity. You figured there would be no harm in stroking his ego a bit more. 

"Thank you for my reward, Commander. It is my privilege to serve you." You beamed. The look in his eyes told you there would soon be more opportunities to be rewarded for your loyalty.


End file.
